


Try Not to Touch

by phantisma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-30
Updated: 2007-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:52:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's been turning tricks to keep them going, but after a bad one leaves him injured, Sam decides to step up to help make ends meet...and things spiral after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try Not to Touch

“You aren’t my pimp, Dean.”

“Maybe I should be.”

Sam slammed the closet door closed. “I’m going.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Someone needs to pay the rent.” Sam stopped and gestured at the cast on Dean’s left arm and the stitches on his cheek. “You seem to be coming up short.”

“So, I’ll hustle pool. We’ll…I don’t know. There’s another way.”

Sam stopped, turned to check out his hair in the mirror over the dresser. “No. Dean. There isn’t. We’re three hundred short on the rent and the power’s going to be shut off tomorrow if we don’t come up with another two.”

Dean’s hand stopped him. “Just…listen, okay?” Everything was wrong…this had never been the life meant for either of them, and it was bad, and Dean knew it, but the idea that it had come to this…he shook it off. It had only been three nights since Sam had found him, crawling home, beat to shit after a john went psycho on him. “Just…be safe.”

Sam sighed and looked down at Dean. “Yeah, I know. It’s okay, Dean.”

“No. I’ve been doing this a while.”

“And I’ve been watching you do this for a while. You think I’ve never…?”

Dean shook his head. He **so** did not want to be thinking about what his baby brother had or hadn’t done…for money or not. “Not like this. It’s different.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “That year at school Dean? Before Dad’s accident? How do you think I ate?”

Dean started, looking up at his brother with wide eyes.

“I used to…” Sam blushed…actually fucking _blushed_ …”Sometimes I’d let them suck me, and they’d pay me…you know…”

“You…they paid to suck you?”

Sam smirked and nodded. “Yeah…and sometimes they’d pay me more to fuck ‘em.” He reached out and ruffled Dean’s hair like he was a kid or a puppy. “I’ll be fine. It’s a party. Like that one you did last summer, remember?”

Sam pressed a kiss to his brother’s forehead and was gone out the door before Dean could stop him.

 

When Sam came home at 4am, he smelled of cologne and sex and cheap whiskey and smoke. Dean watched him shove a wad of bills onto the dresser as he stripped out of his jeans. “You okay?”

Sam only nodded and crawled into the bed they shared, dropping quickly into sleep. It was the beginning of the end. Dean knew it, even as he turned and beat his pillow. He’d let his baby brother whore himself…and asked if he was okay. Okay. As if anything about this was okay.

It would be easy to blame the whole thing on their father. On the hunting accident that put him in the hospital…that put him in a coma. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t always done the occasional stripping gig…when his father wasn’t looking…because John Winchester would have killed him…and that was before he started taking it up the ass to pay the fucking hospital bills...and it wasn't as if it hadn't been two years since the first time Dean got on his knees to sweet talk a landlord into another week on the rent...and that was before he'd stood and watched his brother dress up like a whore in tight pants and a tank top that barely fit...

And now…now he’d let Sam…He closed his eyes and huffed. It was a good thing their father wasn’t waking up any time soon. It was a good thing. Because Dean was pretty sure he’d be dead if the old man ever woke up.

 

The first time he followed Sam out, he knew it was a bad idea…but he let Sam convince him they were safer that way. He felt dirty when Sam watched a trick stick money in his pocket and use those fingers to tug him into the alley. Felt even dirtier when Sam saw him wipe his mouth after he’d spit the man’s come out.

He felt like his stomach was going to wrench itself out of his body when he watched Sam leave the same alley and the john was the one wiping his mouth.

It was far too easy after that…Dean took the ones who wanted to stick their dicks inside some pretty whore…Sam took the ones who wanted some pretty whore to stick their dicks inside them…it was kind of a system…something that felt like a way to survive…but it wasn’t surviving…it was dying slowly…they’d stumble in before daylight and take turns showering off the filth before falling into bed and trying not to touch.

Trying not to touch one another and sleeping in the same bed. Because touching was something they didn't do. Save it for the johns...for the endless tricks...Try not to touch, don't talk about it...just do it...just survive...and here, in this bed pretend.

 

They did okay. Or so Dean told himself when he paid the rent on time and bought actual groceries …not that Sam was eating…but Dean tried not to worry about that. The special gigs were easier…they didn’t feel like whoring so much. Sam seemed to find them…he knew people who knew people…or something.

Which brought them here, to this moment. Staring at one another and not sure what to do. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Dean said, rubbing at the scar on his cheek.

“Come on…we want to see.”

“What my…my partner means is that we both have rules.” Sam supplied, placating Dean with a light touch. “I don’t take and he doesn’t give. It’s that simple.” He reached for his jacket. “We can give you back your money.”

Dean’s eyes were wide as he grabbed Sam’s hand. “We need that money,” he whispered.

“I know.” Sam mouthed to him.

Dean held up his hands. “Give me a minute.” Their audience murmured, while Dean pulled Sam away. “The hospital called this morning. They need more money.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “No.”

Dean licked his lips. It wasn’t an unreasonable request. The men didn’t know they were brothers after all…and really, who was going to tell them…because turning tricks with your brother? Just all kinds of fucked up.

“Sam. Sammy…it’s okay…it’s okay. They want a show…we can do that…right? It’s not like you’ve never…and its been a while, but I’m sure I could…” He didn't know why he was pressing...it wasn't like he wanted it...not that he wanted...

“Dean.”

“Pissy face. It’s $800, for ten minutes. We get naked, fuck, get dressed, go home.”

It was more. It was so much more, because it was Sam…his little brother…his little whore…and it was bending him over and fucking his ass…something Sam didn’t do…not for money….and Dean didn’t ever want to take that away from him…but…He turned back toward the men waiting. “You sure it won’t work for you the other way?”

But no…they wanted to see the big man on his knees...on his back...wanted to watch the slut dominate the whore…”Come on, Sammy…please.” And...Dean realized he did, maybe want this...want the one thing Sam wouldn't sell...Wanted it to be him and not some john in an alley...

Dean was begging. In front of total strangers. Begging his brother to let him stick his dick up his ass. He was even taking off his clothes. “We can do this.” Dean whispered, his hands pushing Sam’s jacket to the floor. They slithered up to Sam’s face, holding it, bringing it slowly down toward his. The first touch of lips was tentative and electric and Dean’s breath caught in his throat. “Sam?” he breathed it, over Sam’s lips and it vanished as those lips opened and his eyes fluttered closed and Dean felt him loosen up, let go.

They were clothes designed to come off easily…and they did, leaving a trail of random black across the floor as Dean guided them to the bed. “Easy…” Sam stiffened a little as the five men watching shifted for better positions. “Right here, with me, Sammy.”

He rescued a condom and a bottle of lube from his pants as Sam’s knees hit the bed. Sam’s big hand was on his face, sliding over his shoulder. “Kiss me.” Dean whispered, feeling the word in his cock as it joined the chorus of “We can do this.” And he could...it was becoming apparent that he really could...

Sam looked a little lost as Dean encouraged his hand down to his groin, and his hot fingers wrapped around his cock was all Dean needed to be hard. “That’s it Sammy.”

Sam fell back onto the bed and Dean followed, already rolling the condom on. Sam was semi hard, but his glance aside at the watching men was nervous. Dean kissed the inside of his knee, his eyes lifting to determine how much show to give. They seemed the kind who wanted some foreplay, but were mostly interested in watching the main event.

Dean kissed his way down Sam’s thigh and licked up over his cock. That was enough to get it’s attention and Dean slicked up two fingers before he lay down over Sam, kissing his chest as those fingers moved to slide into Sam. He stiffened, then Dean felt him try to relax. “Okay, baby…okay…easy.”

Sam whimpered as Dean nudged his legs further apart. Dean couldn’t help but groan as he pressed his cock into him. Sam’s head was thrown back, that long column of neck staring up at Dean as he rested balls deep inside him…inside his brother, his baby brother…Dean took a deep breath and plunged ahead, stroking long and deep as Sam arched up into him. “That’s it baby…”

Dean’s hand slid up sweat slicked skin as Sam hitched his hips to let him in deeper. Sam sucked those fingers into his mouth and Dean had to work to breathe…because he was so beautiful and slutty with his eyes half-lidded and propped up on elbows now to look at Dean. Debauched. That was the word.

“Harder,” someone said and Sam’s hands were around Dean’s wrists, his legs moving to circle his ass and pull him in.

Harder. He altered his angle and drove in harder, pressing Sam’s cock between their bodies as he slammed in and Sam’s eyes rolled back. His come was hot and sticky, filling the space between them and Dean arched up as he struck home and came himself.

 

It was the beginning of the end…or maybe it was the beginning of something else, Dean wasn’t sure. They stumbled in the door a few hours from dawn, not talking. Sam showered first and Dean couldn’t help but imagine that long, lank body, the come dried on his belly…He shook his head….took his turn in the shower, tried not to listen to Sam getting ready for bed, tried not to look at him as he did the same.

He fell into bed, turning back to back, trying not to touch, trying not to think about his baby brother with that look on his face as he came…as he came because Dean was fucking him in front of strangers…”I’m sorry, Sammy,” he whispered well after the deep breathing told him Sam was asleep. Sorry…for everything…He curled on his side, as close to the edge of the bed as he dared…and closed his eyes…Sorry he ever dragged Sam into this…sorry he wasn’t a better brother…the only thing he couldn’t be sorry for was the fire in his gut as he felt Sam roll over in his sleep, spooning up behind Dean like when they were younger.

Dean let the fire burn slow, and pulled Sam's arm over him like a security blanket. Tomorrow they'd go back to trying not to touch...but tonight Dean wanted to feel Sam...and remember the look in his eyes when he'd come.


End file.
